


Switched

by gunophilia



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: AU Game didn't happen, Angst, Comedy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Misogyny, Multi, No time powers, bodyswitch!, minor fatphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6809377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunophilia/pseuds/gunophilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a violent fight Nathan and Warren find that they switched bodies for a week. They try to live as the other and it goes just about as well as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Switched! It's a Freaky Friday-styled fic where Nathan and Warren switch bodies for a week as I'm a sucker for that trope.
> 
> Here are a few things you need to know: Basically, this fic takes place as if the game never happened. Nathan didn't drug Kate and Max reunited with Chloe under different circumstances. Any other differences will be revealed in the fic. The tags and the rating might change over the course of the fic, too.
> 
> Okay, now that that's taken care of, buckle up because it's going to be a wild ride. :)

There are three things with which you could sum up Warren Graham’s life: science, movies, and Max Caulfield.

He practically bounced in his seat at the thought of going to the Drive-In with her. It had taken him all year to gather the courage to ask her out. Fear of rejection and discouragement from Brooke had kept him from asking her earlier in the year. Now, with only two weeks left in their senior year, he figured it was now or never. She said yes.

His constant daydreaming had him completely occupied and he didn’t notice when Stella took a seat next to him until she slammed the cafeteria tray on the table. “You’d think with everything that they charge us for tuition they’d actually come up with some decent food,” she said, holding a soggy french fry.

“It’s not that bad. The soggier they are the better they taste,” Warren countered, taking Stella’s fry and eating it. 

Eating out every day had really blown a hole in Warren’s wallet, and so he took most of his meals at the school cafeteria. The food was sub-par, but hey, it was free. That was where he learned that Stella also took her meals there frequently. Word got around and now most of their friends joined them for dinner. 

Brooke sat on his other side, loudly slurping a soda, her eyes diverted to a textbook. “I agree with Warren,” she said, not looking up. “Cafeteria food is vastly superior when it’s a week old and topped with mold.”

Warren gasped dramatically. He looked at Brooke with the most betrayed expression he could muster. _“Et tu, Brooke?”_

Stella fell into a roaring laughter and reached past Warren to high-five Brooke. She returned it unenthusiastically. Alyssa and Kate showed up then, each carrying their own tray. “What did we miss?” Alyssa asked, seeing the high-five.

“The fall of an empire,” Warren supplied miserably.

“He lost a bet,” Stella added.

Alyssa and Kate nodded sympathetically and took their seat across the table. Over the course of the year, they had become good friends with Warren. Their group dynamic was interesting—Warren and Stella have the same sense of humor and love for gossip; Brooke and Alyssa have semi-regular fights over trashy romance novels vs. _actual_ literature (as Brooke would put it); Kate’s general atmosphere seemed to calm the group; and Max can get along with almost everyone. 

Speaking of Max, Warren’s face beamed when he saw her approach the table, tray in hand. “Hey, Mad Max! How’s it hanging?” Warren greeted. Kate and Alyssa scooted over so she could sit in front of him. He really loved his friends.

“Hey, guys. Can you believe the food here? I wouldn’t be surprised if they took it out of the garbage,” Max commented, looking at her pasta distastefully. 

“We’ve literally been eating here for almost an entire year. I don’t know why everyone’s complaining about it all of a sudden,” Brooke snapped.

“Chill out. I’m only trying to make conversation, you don’t have to get so salty.”

Brooke’s anger didn’t quite dissipate, but she apologized anyway. “Sorry. Finals are two weeks from now and I’m rather stressed.”

Brooke and Max never got along. Warren always wondered why. He asked Stella about it one day and she just sighed and said, “It’s best if you don’t know.” Whatever that meant. He decided that it would be best to stay out of it.

“So,” Warren changed the subject. “I hope you’re ready to see _Rocky Horror_ tomorrow, I hear it’s going to be off the hook!” 

“Warren, you’ve seen _Rocky Horror_ like a billion times.”

“Never in a car, though! It’s an entirely different experience!”

“You’re right, and I _am_ looking forward to it,” she assured him. “Me and Chloe watched that movie as a kid while her parents were asleep. We were so grounded when they found out. It’ll be cool to see it as an adult.”

Brooke cut in. “Interesting story, Max. We’re still meeting on Sunday, right, Warren?”

Warren was a bit thrown off by the change in topic, but quickly fell back into pace. “Yeah, the presentation’s on Monday.” Warren turned to address the rest of the table. “Berkeley is sending a representative to Portland for their chemistry program. Brooke and I are going to present a project and, if we’re lucky, we might get chosen for a scholarship.” 

“Oh wow!”

“Congratulations, Warren!”

“I hope you kick ass.”

His friends’ support warmed his heart. He turned to Brooke. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t get nervous,” she answered.

“I am. This could decide our entire future. I’m afraid I’ll throw up in front of the judges.”

“You won’t, I believe in you, Warren,” Max said and gave him the same smile that caused him to fall for her in the first place.

The smile was immediately wiped off when a loud _bang!_ disturbed the entire cafeteria. For a few moments everything went completely still. Kate’s and Alyssa’s eyes widened, staring at something behind him. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Kate asked, and Warren turned around in his seat to check. His own eyes widened when he saw what the commotion was all about. 

“What’s Nathan Prescott doing in the cafeteria?” He heard Max whisper.

“Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have a right to be here,” Kate answered, but she seemed unsure.

“That’s so fucking weird,” Alyssa said.

“Ugh. Well _my_ day is ruined,” Brooke groaned, then turned back to her textbook. 

Nathan didn’t look happy to be there either. He glanced around, not really liking what he saw, and scrunched his nose. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he took his place in the cafeteria line. He avoided making eye contact with anyone and distracted himself with his shoes.

“You think he lost a bet?” Warren asked.

“I heard he got cut off,” Stella whispered, and everyone at the table leaned over to hear.

“What? You mean like, money-wise?” Warren asked.

Stella hummed in affirmative. “He got in trouble with his parents. Now they’re cutting him off from the fortune. It’s probably why he’s here.”

“Wow,” said Alyssa. “I can’t believe it.”

“I want to feel bad for him, but honestly, he kind of deserves it,” said Kate, taking a bite off her salad.

“I hope it’ll be good for him,” said Max, twirling her pasta idly on her fork. “He’s spoiled as hell; maybe this will be like a wake-up call for him.”

“One can hope,” said Brooke.

“Anyway, I’m totally excited for the field trip Mr. Jefferson has planned on Sunday. We will really need it for our portfolios.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been pulling at my hair for all the crap I’ve got to do before school ends,” said Stella. “And the ‘End of the Year’ party tomorrow? Not that I would normally go to a Vortex Club party, but I could seriously use the break.”

“While you have fun at your _party,_ me and Max are gonna be kickin’ it old school, right?” Warren offered a fistbump to Max and she returned it. 

“Hells yeah. That reminds me, though, what time is it?”

Warren glanced at his phone. “It’s almost seven.”

“Oh crap! I’m supposed to meet with Chloe in a few minutes, I completely forgot!” Max said, chowing down the rest of her food in record time.

“Isn’t she always late anyway?” Kate asked.

“I told her it was at six thirty so she would get there at seven! Sorry, guys, but I gotta go!” She grabbed her bag and got up from the table.

“Max, wait!” Warren tried to warn her but it was too late. Max collided with Nathan Prescott head on, sending his tray on the ground and his food all over himself. As with earlier, the cafeteria got immensely quiet. Until Nathan broke the silence.

“What the _fuck?!”_ He screamed, wiping the red sauce from the pasta from his clothing.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. It was an accident!” Max said, trying to salvage the situation.

“Watch where you’re going you fucking whore! Do you have any idea how much this costs?!” He said, motioning to his jacket.

“I said it was an accident, you don’t have to be so rude about it.”

“Oh, _I’m_ being rude? Are you fucking kidding me? You ruined my fucking outfit and I’m the one that’s being rude here. If you got your head out of your ass, you might have seen me coming.” Nathan stepped closer, Warren tensed.

Max didn’t step back. She frowned and said, “Calm down, it’s not that bad.”

That was the wrong thing to say, because Nathan got enraged and grabbed her harshly. “Don’t tell me to calm down, whore! Nobody tells me what to do, do you get that?” Max protested and tried to free herself from his grip. He shook her. “Do you?!”

Warren stood up and shoved Nathan, who let go of Max. “Hey, lay off her!” 

“And who the fuck are you? Her bodyguard?” He asked.

“It was an accident, you fucking prick! Just leave her alone.”

Warren didn’t see the headbutt that sent him sprawling on the ground. He heard Alyssa and Kate gasp, Stella scream, and Brooke curse. He opened his eyes and saw him coming for Max again and saw red. Lifting himself off the ground, the tackled Nathan to the floor and began throwing punches. The cafeteria exploded in screams and cheers.

Nathan kneed him in the stomach and Warren lost his breath for a second, which gave Nathan plenty of opportunity to headbutt him again. Once again he was caught unprepared and he staggered back. Nathan grabbed him by the back of his head and brought his knee on Warren’s solar plexus once, twice, thrice. 

A circle of onlookers had formed around them, chanting different names. Most of it was Warren’s name, some were Nathan’s. He heard his friends’ concerned shouts over the majority of the crowd. The fourth kick sent Warren falling backwards into the ground and Nathan brought his fist to Warren’s face. Warren’s right hand was blindly searching for something he could use to get Nathan off him. _Anything._ His fingers then closed on a juice carton and without giving it much thought, he brought the carton to the right side of Nathan’s face, and the juice exploded.

To Warren’s luck and misfortune, it turned out to be lemon juice, and Nathan immediately staggered back with a yelp as the juice landed in his eyes. Unfortunately for Warren, the juice got on him too, and stung painfully at his new wounds. 

_“Fuck!_ You fucking shit!” He heard Nathan yell. “That’s it, you’re fucking dead!”

Warren took that opportunity to get as far away as he could from Nathan, and to prepare himself for the next onslaught. When Nathan opened his eyes they were completely bloodshot. He wiped at a trail of blood running from his mouth, Warren did the same but with his nose. 

There was a sudden tug at the back of his shirt that pulled him backwards, and his first instinct was to fight it. 

“What in the living hell is going on here!” He heard the unfortunately familiar voice of David Madsen behind him. And with it, the cafeteria was silenced once more.

“David,” Warren heard Max’s voice, “I accidentally bumped into Nathan and he went berserk and attacked me. Warren was trying to defend me.”

But David wasn’t having any of it. “What I’m getting is that there was a _fight_ in the cafeteria. Both of you to the Principal’s office, now!” He shoved Warren to the direction of the exit. 

Nathan followed him, reluctantly. “March!” David yelled, and they moved faster. Some guys, Warren didn’t know who, patted him on the back and congratulated him. David was unimpressed. “Everyone else back to your dorms, show’s over!”

The walk to the Principal’s office was bad. Warren’s face and chest hurt like a bitch, and he was on edge, not knowing if Nathan was going to snap and attack him even with David there. But, he didn’t. Nathan’s shoulders were hunched and he looked like he was in a lot of pain, like Warren, though he didn’t feel any sympathy for that. David hollered the whole way.

Principal Wells looked over at them when they came in. He didn’t show any sympathy for them either. He glanced at their bloodied faces with a furrowed brow and flared nostrils. “Take a seat,” he said, gesturing to the two empty chairs in front of him. 

Nathan sank down on the seat like it was his throne. His legs were splayed out in front of him and his body was slouched on the cushion. Warren had never been in trouble before; not like this, and so he sat uncomfortably, his hands switching positions. He wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“These two hoodlums were fighting in the school cafeteria,” David said, and stood next to Wells, his hands folded behind his back.

Nathan scoffed. Warren didn’t say anything.

Wells intertwined his fingers. “And exactly _why_ were you two fighting? Care to explain?”

“Jackass doesn’t know how to mind his own business,” Nathan spoke up, and Warren’s anger returned.

“You were attacking my friend! All ‘cause she ruined your sweater, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Warren braced his hands on the arms of the chair. His bloodied hands.

“I ought to sue you and that cunt for property damage,” Nathan said, gesturing to his clothes.

“Enough!” Wells interrupted, and Nathan fell silent. “Never mind, I do not _care_ why you were fighting on school grounds—violence is never tolerated at Blackwell. Mr. Graham,” he turned to Warren, “you are one of the best students Blackwell has to offer. It shames me greatly to see you get involved in such delinquent behavior.” Warren sank down in his seat, ashamed. “You,” he said, addressing Nathan, “I don’t have a file on you, I have an entire cabinet. I have warned you time and time again to stop behaving so foolishly and every time I have let you get away with it with a slap on the wrist.” Nathan huffed, but didn’t say anything.

“I have half a mind to suspend the both of you.” Both Warren and Nathan opened their mouths to protest, but Wells raised a hand, silencing them. “I understand that it could be catastrophic for either of you, given how much time we have left for the school year. So I am going to give you both a chance. If I see you two fighting one more time, there won’t be any more warnings. You won’t be suspended, you will be _expelled._ Am I making myself clear?”

“But you can’t, I have the presentation on Monday—”

“Are you shitting me? I am this close from getting away from this shithole—”

“Ah, you’re in agreement. So this should be easy for you. All I ask is that you don’t fight for the rest of the two weeks here. Do you think you can handle that?”

Warren nodded, Nathan held his chin up defiantly.

“Good. Both of you go to the nurse and get yourselves checked out. You’re dismissed.”

David didn’t seem happy with this outcome and protested, but was quickly shut down by Wells. Nathan and Warren walked out of the office with their heads down and tails between their legs. 

“Fuckin’ prick,” he heard Nathan mutter next to him.

“Wow, after all this you still think it’s my fault?” Warren said incredulously. 

“I’m just saying if you had minded your own business none of this would have happened,” Nathan said, pressing his fingertips against the bridge of his nose.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had accepted Max’s apology,” Warren rebutted.

“If she had seen where she was going—” His sentence got cut off as he slipped on a puddle of water that was in the process of being mopped up by Samuel. 

Warren couldn’t help it, he laughed at the irony. And at the sight of Nathan slipping and falling on his ass. To be fair, neither of them had been paying attention to where they were going and Samuel blended with the background all too well.

“Watch your step, young Nathan. These halls are very wet, very slippery,” Samuel said, offering his hand to help Nathan up. Nathan didn’t take it—he slapped the hand away, then recoiled as if electrocuted. He got up and turned towards Warren, nostrils flaring.

 _“Shut the fuck up!”_ He said, and grabbed the object nearest to him: Samuel’s mop. “You better shut up or I’m going to shove this mop up your ass.”

“Do it!” Warren challenged. “I’d love to see you get expelled!” 

Nathan’s grip tightened on the mop, before he threw it to the ground. “Fuck that and fuck you. I’m outta here,” he said, pushing open the front doors.

Warren knelt down to recover the mop. “The nurse’s office is that way,” said, pointing to another hall.

Nathan flipped him off. “Fuck off.”

Warren cringed a bit at the sound the doors made as they slammed closed. 

“There is an anger deep inside him,” Samuel said, and Warren started. The janitor was so quiet, Warren had forgotten he was there.

“Well, yeah. No shit,” Warren said, before bringing his hand to the back of his neck. “Sorry for the cursing.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” said Samuel, looking beyond the doors. “There is anger, but there is also pain. He needs someone to help him.”

“Maybe a psych ward,” Warren joked morbidly.

An odd look came across Samuel’s face. Not quite anger, but not disappointment either. It was an aged sadness. Something Warren would attribute to someone who had lived too long and grown weary of the world. “You are kind, Warren,” Samuel said, very softly. “You are kind to your friends, but not to those who need your kindness the most.”

“Nathan Prescott doesn’t deserve kindness,” said Warren, coldly. “Not after what he did to Max.”

“But who prays for the Devil?”

And that was all Samuel said before he gently took the mop from Warren’s hands. Samuel’s fingers brushed his and Warren got a surge of static at the contact. He hissed, but Samuel didn’t seem to notice. He returned cleaning the puddle, muttering ‘slippery, slippery floors’. Warren left to the nurse’s office to ponder about the strange encounter.

ooo

The overwhelmingly bitter taste of Vodka burned down Nathan’s throat. He wiped the blood off his face with a discarded T-shirt, staining it red. Whatever. Who gave a shit? 

Nathan did, though he desperately tried to convince himself he didn’t. So what if he went berserk in front of the entire cafeteria? It wasn’t like those people mattered. It wasn’t like he mattered. He was insane; everybody already knew it. If they hadn’t seen it first hand before, they did now.

All he knew was that he was going to get piss drunk. And that he wasn’t going to cry. Fuck _that,_ his already drunken mind supplied for him. He was gonna party tonight. And tomorrow. Fuck it, Nathan Prescott was going to party _every_ night. 

He started when the handle on the door jiggled and turned. He had locked it, and only one other person had a key. 

Victoria gasped when she saw him. Draped over his couch, chugging down a bottle of Pur Vodka as fast as he could. She faltered when she saw his bloodied face, but quickly regained composure and snatched the bottle from his hand. “Seriously, Nate? This could kill you.”

“Thank God,” he slurred. “And here I was, drinking it for the taste.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, still clutching the bottle. “I heard what happened. You’ve been acting really weird lately, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nuthin’ you need to worry about, _gorgeous.”_

“I’m serious. You need to stop keeping things from me. We’re best friends; I want to help you.”

“Then gimme that bottle,” he said, half-heartedly reaching for it. Victoria slapped his hand away, and Nathan winced, as she had hit a bruise.

“You don’t want help. Fine. But I’m not going to help you kill yourself. Classes are almost over, have you even picked up a textbook? Or looked at a college?”

“Whut’s the point? Haven’t you heard? I’m fuckin’ rich,” Nathan spread his arms over the air, as if showing her all of his unlimited money.

Victoria’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re going to take over your father’s company? Is that it?”

Nathan swallowed loudly, but didn’t say anything.

Victoria set the bottle down and took a seat on the corner of the couch. “Nathan, you hate that place.”

 _“Really?_ I had no idea,” Nathan said sarcastically.

“Why were you at the cafeteria today?” Victoria didn’t really expect an answer, which was good because Nathan wasn’t going to give her one.

“I do what I want. Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise.”

Victoria was, of course, more perceptive than that. “You’re hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is or why, but please don’t pretend you’re not.” Nathan remained quiet and Victoria sighed. “What about your portfolio?”

Nathan groaned and turned over so his face was buried in the cushions of the couch.

“At least we have the field trip on Sunday. You should really ask Mark for help, I know he’s been offering.”

“Fuck that guy,” Nathan’s voice was muffled against the fabric.

Victoria rolled her eyes. “Seriously? He’s been nothing but good to you. He’s an amazing mentor and a talented photographer. You literally have no reason to hate him.”

“And yet I do. What a crazy fuckin’ world.”

The couch shifted as Victoria got up in a huff. She would get personally offended if anybody said they didn’t like Mark Jefferson, which led to a lot of arguments ending up like this. “Fine. You know what? You can stay here and rot for all I care. I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself. We only have two weeks left until I go to Chicago. You want to give me the silent treatment until then? Fine.” She said, her voice cracking on the last word. “I’m done. Let me know when you want to make something of yourself.” Nathan heard the door slam.

Nathan rolled over, reached for the bottle on the floor, and chugged the rest down in one gulp.

ooo

There was a storm outside. Unforgiving rain pelted loudly at Warren’s window and lightning would occasionally bring light to his darkened room. There wasn’t a forecast predicting the storm, but nature was often harsh and unpredictable. 

Warren’s phone had been blown up with texts from nearly everyone he knew and some people he didn’t. Most of them were congratulating him for fighting Nathan, some were concerned friends asking if he was okay. It made him smile, though he felt like shit. 

_I really went crazy,_ he texted Max. 

_It was self-defense,_ she had replied. And it really was. He didn’t throw the first blow. Technically. And Nathan did go fucking psycho on him. So why was he feeling so bad?

He always wondered what it would be like to go apeshit on someone. Warren was always getting his ass kicked (and he still did, the throbbing on his face reminded him), but he hardly ever fought back. _He deserved it,_ he kept trying to convince himself, but couldn’t believe it.

And the things he said to Samuel? He did mean them. Nathan Prescott didn’t deserve his kindness. Warren was trying to figure out if he didn’t deserve the beating either.

Stella hooked him up with some NyQuil for the pain and the inevitable insomnia that it would cause. Lightning struck way too close for his liking and he saw the bolt that flashed it. Thunder came half a second later. He hoped it would roll over by tomorrow night. He had been looking forward to go on a date with Max since, well, the beginning of the school year. It would really suck if he couldn’t because of the weather.

Still, he held out hope. Nothing, not a storm, not even Nathan Prescott could ruin his plans for tomorrow. He was going on a date with Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the first chapter and I hope you stick around for more. Feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the garbage can i am your host the garbage man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry it's been so long, I've had a lot on my plate and didn't have the time to finish the chapter, but I'm back on track!
> 
> I removed a few of the tags so I'm really sorry if any of you followed the story because of them, and I hope you do stick around 'till the end.
> 
> And thank those who commented on the first chapter, I'm sorry I haven't replied, and hopefully I'll update the fic more often now that this long-ass 15k chapter is out of the way.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Nathan awoke from quite possibly the most fitful sleep he’d had in months. And that really was saying something.

Everything felt off. His bed was too hard and he kept feeling like he was going to fall off the sides. His face throbbed, but in all the wrong places. His body felt warmer than usual and the taste in his mouth was different. 

On the bright side, he surprisingly didn’t have a hangover.

Unfortunately, he didn’t remember much from yesterday. Oh, he remembered the fight _vividly,_ but aside from that, everything was lost in a drunken blur. Victoria went into his room and they argued, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember about what.

Still half-asleep, he crawled out of his bed. The room was dark and he had to feel around to find the door. Heavy lids prevented him from opening his eyes fully as he made his way down the corridor. From the window he could see tinges of pink lining the sky, meaning it was dawn.

The floor’s cold tiles didn’t bother him as they usually would. A glance at his feet told him that he was wearing socks. Which was weird. He never wore socks to bed. He didn’t even own a pair of wooly gray ones. Nathan must’ve been _really drunk_ if he took someone else’s.

He avoided looking at the mirror, as he usually did, while he turned on the faucet. He splashed some water on his face and… immediately knew something was wrong. Aside from the fact that he had bandages—which he clearly remembered _not_ getting—his face felt different. Touching it with his fingers, he learned that his cheeks were fuller, his lips felt smaller, the bridge of his nose wasn’t crooked. 

Heart in his throat, Nathan snapped his head up to look in the mirror, and stared into big _brown_ eyes. 

With a yelp he stumbled backwards, slipping once again on a wet patch on the floor, falling on his ass. His ribs hurt and they were not supposed to. He didn’t get hit on the ribs, _Warren_ did. 

Nathan shut his eyes and tangled his fingers in his—no, _Warren’s_ —hair. He was dreaming. He was fucking dreaming. He slowly, tentatively, got on his knees. Using the sink as his support, he lifted himself off the ground. He reluctantly opened his eyes, hoping, praying, that it was just another of his fucking hallucinations.

But it wasn’t. Nathan knew it wasn’t. There was no way his brain could come up with something so fucked up as being stuck in Warren’s body. He looked over at his—Warren’s—face, scrutinizing every detail. It was clean. All of the wounds Nathan caused were perfectly covered under sterile white gauzes. The only thing not covered was his right eye, where it was mottled with black and purple bruises. His hair felt oily and stuck up in different directions. His eyes were big and framed with long, feminine eyelashes. Overall, he looked _horrible._

 _“What the fuck?”_ He whispered, only to hear Warren’s voice. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit, shit, shit._ He better be dreaming. He better be fucking dreaming. There was no way in HELL Nathan just magically turned into Warren fucking Graham. 

But, then, if he was in Warren’s body, who was in Nathan’s body?

 _Oh no, oh please God fuck no,_ Nathan repeated to himself over and over again as he made his way to his room on shaky legs. He didn’t have the keys, _of course_ he didn’t have the fucking keys, so he knocked on the wood.

_Please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer._

“‘m coming, ‘m coming.”

_Oh fuck no._

The door opened to reveal a sleep-deprived and hungover Nathan fucking Prescott. He had his fingers pressed against his eyes, no doubt fighting a serious migraine. “What’s up? It’s, like, early as fuck,” he said.

Nathan stood there completely dumbfounded. The other Nathan eventually opened his eyes to look at him. His brow furrowed to a frown, but then was replaced with an easy smile. “Oh, good. I’m still dreaming,” he said, and turned to leave. 

Nathan stopped the door with his foot and pushed him inside the room, closing the door behind them. The other Nathan looked annoyed, but relatively undisturbed. 

“What. The. Fuck?” Nathan said.

The other Nathan sighed. “Look, me, this has been fun and all, but I’d really get back to peaceful, dreamless, headacheless sleeping.”

Was this guy for real? “You’re not fucking dreaming, dumbass.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I am. My dreams usually involve more space and babes, though.” Okay, so that was definitely Warren. Only he could be so lame.

Not really seeing any other way to convince him, Nathan slapped him. 

Warren gasped at the pain, which was probably doubled due to the state of his face. His eyes were blown wide open, and he looked at Nathan in alarm. “Dude, what the fuck?!”

“I said you’re not. Fucking. Dreaming,” Nathan repeated.

Realization seemed to come to Warren slowly as he looked at Nathan, at his surroundings, then finally down to his body. His expression was quickly replaced from confusion to alarm. “Wait, _what?”_

Warren’s hands went up to touch his face, his hair, his clothes. Nathan saw his chest heave and anticipated a scream coming, so he muffled it with his own hand before it could come out. _“Calm down,”_ he hissed, surprisingly the calm one in this situation. 

“What… What the hell?” Warren said when Nathan removed his hand. “Who are you? Who am I?”

“Why don’t you look in a fucking mirror, you dumbfuck?”

Warren stopped and _really_ looked at him. “Nathan, is that you?”

“Yes, dumbass. You’re in my body and I’m in your body.”

“I’m in your body?” He said, looking down at his body and touching around. “How?”

“You think _I_ know? I’m freaking out just as bad as you are.”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Speak for yourself,” Nathan said. “You got the good end of the deal. My face is an improvement to this fucking disaster.” He touched his face.

Warren stopped panicking and looked at Nathan disbelievingly. “No offense, but my face is at a much better shape than yours.” He brought his fingers to his nose, only to hiss in pain. “Though, I really wish I hadn’t hit you so hard.”

“That’s what you get, you fucking asshole,” Nathan said, ignoring the fact that his body hurt a lot worse.

“Fuck, what are we going to do?” Warren asked.

“I don’t know! I was going to ask _you_ that!” Nathan said, pacing around his room.

“Oh no,” Warren began pulling at his hair, “Oh no, no, no, no, _no.”_

Nathan stopped pacing and looked at him. “What?”

“I have a date with Max tonight. I have _the_ date with Max tonight! I’ve been planning this all year!”

Nathan laughed humorlessly. “Oh, you’re fucking boned, brah.”

“I can’t miss this! We only have two weeks of school left, this is my only shot at being with Max!”

“That sounds like your problem.”

“Maybe, maybe this could still work,” said Warren, rushing to the mirror in Nathan’s closet. He looked at himself, grimaced, and started running his fingers through his hair.

“What the hell, stop messing with my hair! The fuck are you doing?” Nathan said.

“I can still go. If I can just try to look like me,” Warren tried flattening Nathan’s curls, but it was useless. Blonde strands stuck out everywhere and made Warren’s mission impossible. He sighed. “It’ll be dark. Maybe she won’t notice.”

“Like hell she won’t,” said Nathan. “We look nothing alike. And there’s no way in seven hells you’re going on a date with that hipster trash in my body.”

Warren whipped around, eyes angry, fists curled to his side. “This is _your_ fault,” he said.

 _“My_ fault? Just how the fuck is this my fault?”

“You attacked Max yesterday. This is, like, revenge or something.”

“Revenge from _whom?”_

“I don’t know. The universe or God or something.”

“God or something,” Nathan repeated and clapped his hands. _“Great._ Fucking fantastic.”

“What are we gonna do? I don’t want to be stuck like this,” Warren gestured to his body.

“Do I look like an expert on this kind of shit?”

“Okay, okay,” said Warren, sitting, cross legged, on the bed. He had his fist curled under his chin in a manner totally unlike Nathan. It was odd looking at himself from someone else’s eyes. He could barely recognize himself. “Let’s retrace our steps from yesterday. _Something_ must have happened for us to switch bodies like this.”

Warren started retelling the details of his _boring_ day. “...And in History class we discussed the Civil War as a review for the final, and during Science I spilled chlorine all over my pants, which was really embarrassing—”

“Oh my God, can we just cut to the part where I beat the shit out of you?”

Warren paused and tapped his chin. “Hm, I don’t seem to recall that. I _do_ remember that we _fought_ and that it ended on a _draw.”_

“Are you serious?” Nathan motioned to his new body. “Look at this. I fucking destroyed you.”

 _“The point is,_ we can’t really say for sure who won in the fight. And, either way, it’s not important.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“After the fight, David Madsen showed up and sent us to the Principal’s office, where we were threatened with expulsion.”

“Yeah?”

“Then you slipped and fell on your ass in the hall.”

“Fuck you, Graham.”

“Then you left, Samuel said some cryptic shit, and then I went to the nurse’s office.”

Nathan straightened his back. “Wait, what cryptic shit?”

“I don’t really remember. Something about anger and kindness and the Devil,” Warren struggled to remember. “I kinda got a small static shock when I gave him back the mop, which was weird, but you know, electrons and shit.”

“I got a shock too. It didn’t really feel like regular static though. Like when you touch a doorknob. It was more like it went over my whole body,” Nathan said, remembering it with a subconscious shudder.

Warren’s eyebrows lifted. “You don’t think—”

“That motherfucker,” Nathan growled, and left the room, slamming the door.

He heard the door open when he turned in the hall, so he supposed Warren must’ve followed him out. He stalked through the halls, his fists curled at his sides, expression murderous. 

“Nathan, wait! We don’t know if it was him!” He heard Warren call out behind him.

“Bullshit it wasn’t!” He replied, shoving the main doors open. Cool spring air flowed through his thin pajamas, making him shiver. He found the custodian sitting on a bench, throwing food at fat squirrels. 

“Hey!” He called out and Samuel turned. There wasn’t any notable change in his expression, only stared at Nathan with his dead fish eyes and a disturbing smile. 

“Hello there, Warren. Have you come to say good morning to the squirrels? They very much enjoy their breakfast.”

“Cut the crap, asshole,” Nathan said, striding up to him and glaring him down. Warren slowed down to a stop beside him. 

“Don’t be so rude,” he chastised Nathan.

Nathan ignored him. “You did something to us. I want it gone. Now.”

“And what would that be?” Samuel asked, serene as ever.

“You know EXACTLY what you did. Change us back. Or else I’m going to shove the tobanga up your ass sideways.”

“Jesus Christ, Nathan,” he heard Warren hiss next to him. 

“No fighting,” said Samuel with a grin Nathan could only call smug. That _son of a bitch._

“Oh you fucking prick!” Nathan was about to grab Samuel, when Warren hooked his arms around his pits, stopping him. 

“Nathan! Calm down, maybe he really doesn’t know anything!”

“Oh, he knows! Look at him and his beady eyes! He did this!” Nathan struggled against Warren’s grip.

Samuel looked unperturbed by this. “You could learn a lot if you lived in the others’ shoes. Such as what size shoe the other person wears.”

Warren’s grip went lax at Samuel’s words, but Nathan had stopped struggling. “So, you did do something?” He asked.

“Light can’t live without darkness. Positive without negative. Two halves of a whole.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Nathan asked.

“You tell me,” he said, and Nathan wanted to throttle him.

“Samuel,” Warren started. _“Please_ change us back. I can’t live as Nathan the rest of my life.”

“Neither can Nathan,” Samuel said.

“You motherfucker,” was all Nathan said.

“Like a puzzle, everything will be set right when you are made whole. I have to sweep before the students wake up. Watch your step this time.” Samuel stood up and left.

“I’m gonna kill him,” said Nathan, staring at Samuel’s back.

“Not in my body you’re not,” said Warren.

“Fuck,” whispered Nathan, as the sun raised itself in the sky. “Come on.”

ooo

They went back to Nathan’s room. Warren didn’t get a good look at it before, and gazed at it with a mix of awe and general unease. It was creepy, but cool at the same time. The projector definitely caught his eye, though he didn’t point it out.

Nathan collapsed on the bed, the palms of his hands pressed against his eyes. He brought a pillow to his face and screamed into it. Warren felt like doing the same.

“Should we, y’know, tell anyone?” Warren asked.

Nathan removed the pillow from his face and gave him an incredulous look. “Are you insane? Who’s gonna believe us?”

“I think we can convince a few people.”

Nathan released a mirthless laugh. “Like hell we’re telling anyone. I spent too long trying not to get sent to a mental institution just to end up there because of some freak accident.”

“What are we gonna do, then?”

 _“We_ are not going anywhere. We’re staying right here in this room until all of this blows over, okay? Get yourself comfortable ‘cus we’re gonna be here a while.”

“I, uh,” Warren rubbed the back of his head. “I kinda have to pee.”

Nathan shot up in his bed. _“No.”_

The more he thought about it, the worse it got. “I really, _really_ have to go.”

“I’ve been holding it in since I woke up! You are not touching my dick, Warren!”

He wondered if it would make it worse for Nathan to hold his own dick while Warren peed, which brought a rather horrifying mental image that he immediately shook out of his head. 

“I get what you’re saying, but eventually one of us is gonna have to—” Warren’s sentence got cut off as there was a knock on the door. Warren and Nathan both jumped and stared at it in horror.

“Hello? Nathan, are you decent?” It was Victoria.

 _“Shit!”_ Nathan hissed. _“Hide!”_ He told Warren and made as if to open the door, but Warren stopped him.

 _“You’re in my body remember?”_ He whispered. _“You’re the one that needs to hide.”_

“I’m coming in,” she said, and Nathan panicked, looking for someplace to hide. 

Warren shoved Nathan into a corner behind the door and opened it before Victoria could. “Hey, Victoria!” He said, trying to seem casual. “What’s happening?” 

Nathan was shielded from Victoria’s view, but Warren could see him facepalming. 

“You’re not ready yet?” She said, looking at him up and down.

“Uh, no? Long night. Just woke up,” he said, adding a yawn for effect.

She pursed her lips and said, “How do you feel? You were pretty wasted last night.”

 _That explains the headache,_ Warren thought to himself. “Not too good, I’m feeling pretty sick, so whatever it is we got to do, I think I should sit this one out.” 

“Nathan, are you fucking kidding me? It took us months to get this appointment, and I am not showing up to the ‘End of the Year’ party with my roots showing like this,” she showed him her dark roots. So Victoria wasn’t a natural blonde? Huh.

“You can go without me,” said Warren.

Victoria crossed her arms. “Har, har. And who is going to drive me there?”

“Get an Uber or something,” Warren muttered, trying to close the door.

Victoria pushed the door open, unknowingly slamming it against Nathan’s nose. Warren could see him physically trying to contain the whine of pain it elicited. “This isn’t funny, Nate.” 

Warren opened his mouth to say something, but Victoria sighed and said, “I know you’re upset about me leaving to Chicago, but you can’t shut me out like this. This could be our last chance to really hang out before I go. If you don’t want to do anything, fine. But please don’t shut me out.”

He flicked his gaze to Nathan, who looked—Warren was surprised to note—sad. He didn’t really think it through when he said, “Sorry, Victoria. Just give me a few minutes to change.”

She nodded and he closed the door. 

“What are you doing?” Nathan growled.

“I have no idea,” Warren replied.

“Are you insane?” Nathan said. “You’re gonna hang out with Victoria. All day. In _my_ body.”

“I felt bad and I panicked! It’s okay, I’ll just drop her off at the salon—or wherever she’s going—and pick her up when she’s done. It’s no big deal.”

“The salon is all the way in Portland. _You_ have an appointment too, you know.”

“Wait, what?”

Nathan sighed and ran his hand down his face. “The ‘End of the Year’ party. I completely forgot.”

“I don’t have to go—” Warren started, but Nathan cut him off.

“No, you _have_ to go. You don’t get it. This is a Vortex Club party and I _am_ the Vortex Club. Not to mention we’ve got to set up and I have to get all the supplies and the DJ and—” Nathan collapsed back on his bed and screamed into his pillow once more.

“That sounds like your problem,” Warren said in what, he hoped, was a perfect imitation of Nathan. 

Victoria knocked on the door. “Nathan, are you done?”

Nathan sat up on the bed. “You have to do it for me.”

“What? Plan a party? Nooo way,” Warren raised his hands.

“What do you want? Money? I’ll pay you, if that’s what you want. Just get it done.”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t know how to set up a party. The last big party I had was my tenth birthday and my parents planned it. It was at Chuck E. Cheese’s. You don’t care.”

Nathan made a visible attempt to raise a single eyebrow, only to learn that Warren’s face couldn’t do that. He settled for frowning.

“Secondly, I’m nothing like you. Like, at all. I’m pretty sure we’re opposites.”

Victoria knocked on the door again. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

“If you do it, I’ll,” Nathan shut his eyes, like it pained him to say it. “I’ll go on the date with Max for you.”

 _“What?”_ Warren said.

“I’m coming in,” Victoria said, and Nathan threw himself on the floor behind his bed.

Warren, with a mix of poor-planning and instinct, took off his pajama bottoms. “I’m still changing, Victoria!” He said to her shocked face.

She covered her eyes with one hand and said, “Sorry! Sorry! I’ll wait for you by the car, just hurry up!” She slammed the door. 

Nathan looked like he was going to murder him. 

“Hey, it worked!” Warren said in his defense.

“When I get my body back I am going to wring your throat until you pass out.”

“Pants?” Warren asked, and Nathan shot him an angry look, before going to his closet and picking out clothes for Warren to wear.

 _“As I was saying,”_ Nathan threw a pair of expensive-looking jeans to Warren’s face. “I will go on the date with that hipster wannabe if you go to the party for me.”

 _“Why_ would I want you to go on a date with Max? I don’t know if you remember, but you attacked her yesterday. I don’t want you anywhere near her.” Warren slipped the pants on. Nathan threw a longsleeved shirt to his face.

“I was in a bad mood yesterday. It won’t happen again.”

“Implying you are in a stellar mood today.”

Nathan turned on his heel and stared Warren down. “Listen. I am willing to do you this favor. I’ll go out with Max, and I’ll make sure the date goes so well she’ll cream in her pants at the sight of you, and when we’re back to normal you and her can go fuck each other into the sunset. Does that sound like a good deal to you?”

Though Warren was thoroughly repelled by his choice of words, he had to admit the idea was tempting. If he didn’t go on the date with Max today, he might as well kiss the dream of being with her goodbye. But if Nathan went, he might still have a chance.

“You have experience with girls?” Warren asked.

“Some.” More than him, probably.

After giving it some thought Warren nodded and said, “Just make sure it goes well, okay?”

Nathan extended his hand, “I swear I’ll do my best.”

Warren shook it, feeling like he had made a huge mistake.

ooo

The car ride with Victoria was… Awkward? Terrifying? Embarrassing? All of the above? Warren couldn’t decide.

He was halfway through Portland when he realized he didn’t know where he was going. He was too focused on trying not to make a fool of himself in front of Victoria—and trying not to crash Nathan’s nice, expensive car—to really know where he was going. 

“—and then Mark called on her _again!_ Like hellooo, I know the answer too, I’ve been raising my hand for about a hundred years. I honestly don’t know what he sees in that selfie slut; she barely does the reading!”

“Yeah, Max is such a… such a…” Warren struggled to come up with an insult. “Such a… bad… person.”

Victoria gave him a _are you fucking kidding me?_ look which Warren pretended not to see. 

“And her hair is just so… brown. It makes me sick.”

“Uh-huh,” Victoria said, and turned her head towards the window.

He was physically incapable of saying anything negative about Max. He tried to change the subject.

“So, do you remember where the salon is or…?”

“No. You know I’m bad at giving directions. We’ve been here like a hundred times, Nate.”

 _Well, shit._ What the hell was he supposed to do? He was coming up at an intersection and had no idea which road to take. “Can you pass me my cellphone?” 

“Why?” She asked, but gave it to him anyway.

“Uh, I’m still reeling over last night and I can’t seem to remember how to get there. I’m gonna call the salon and ask for directions.”

Victoria huffed and rolled her eyes. She didn’t believe him, but he didn’t have a choice. He dialed his number. Three rings later, Nathan picked up.

_“Yeah?”_

“Uh, hi! This is Nathan Prescott, I have an appointment at your salon.”

_“Oh my fucking god.”_

“Yes, that’s the one. Listen, I think I took the wrong road and I would like directions on how to get there.”

_“Just ask Victoria, dumbass.”_

Warren spared Victoria a glance, she was pointedly looking outside the window at the passing landscape. Clearly listening, but pretending not to. “I tried that already.”

He heard Nathan give the longest, most exasperated sigh Warren had ever heard. Then he said, _“Where are you now?”_

Warren was going in the right direction, at least. Victoria refused to talk to him throughout the duration of the ride, convinced he was hiding something from her. 

ooo

Nathan’s stylist was a man named Ricky. Victoria’s was a woman named Vanessa. Warren couldn’t help but feel relieved when Vanessa took Victoria away to work on her, and Ricky on him. 

“So,” he asked, running his fingers through Warren’s hair. “What do you want?”

“Uh,” Warren really, really wished he had asked Nathan what he was supposed to do. “The, uh, the usual?”

“So just gel and a trim?”

“I guess.”

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to try something different?”

Warren floundered. “Oh, well, I don’t—”

“I’ve told you before, you have gorgeous natural hair. It seems like such a waste to hide it under that gorilla slop you call gel.”

“Well, I don’t really know about that…”

“Come on, humor me for a sec,” Ricky combed his hair with his fingers, “your hair is wavy, right? Kind of a mess, gets everywhere.”

“Yeah?”

“But what if, instead of trying to control it with gel, why don’t you use it to your advantage? A trim, a few good conditioners, coconut oil, and you’ll look just like Harry Styles.”

Warren had no idea who that was, or what he was supposed to respond. “Uh, sure.”

“Perfect. Trust me, you’ll love it. Your girlfriend will love it too.”

Girlfriend? This was news for Warren. “My what?”

“That girl you always come here with. Victoria, right?”

“She’s not my—Well, I don’t _think_ she is. Maybe?” _Was_ Victoria Nathan’s girlfriend? Wouldn’t he have said something if she was? Warren had a feeling she wasn’t, but wasn’t sure about it. 

Ricky didn’t seem put off by Warren’s indecision. “Don’t know? Oh, I’ve been there, trust me. The waters will clear eventually, don’t you worry.”

The haircut went on, and Warren’s nerves went to panic mode when he pulled out the hairdryer and began talking to the person next to him instead of paying attention. To his immense relief, however, he didn’t get burned or snipped. Ricky chatted, but didn’t probe into Warren’s personal life, which was also a relief, since he didn’t know much of Nathan in the first place.

When he was done, Ricky removed the cape with a flourish, and Warren got a good look in the mirror. He—or, well, Nathan—looked different. Wispy strands stuck out of place in waves. Warren experimentally ran his fingers through it. It felt and looked much, much better without gel, in Warren’s unprofessional opinion. 

He went to check on Victoria, who didn’t look near done, waiting in a chair scrolling through her phone, aluminum in her hair. She looked up as he approached. Her eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t very reassuring. 

“Wow,” she said.

“Is it okay?” Warren said, self-consciously pushing a strand away from his face. 

“No, I like it. I just didn’t think you’d change it. You never change your hair.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not a big difference. I didn’t cut it much or anything.”

“I’ve been trying to get you to change your hair for years. What changed?”

Well, shit. Warren didn’t know how to answer that. “Ricky said it would look nice.”

She made a noncommittal sound and returned to browsing on her phone. Warren felt like he fucked up somehow, but didn’t know where. His phone started ringing then, the caller ID said ‘Unknown’. He didn’t know who would be calling him on a Saturday, except, well, Nathan. 

“I gotta take this, be right back,” he excused himself with Victoria, but she ignored him. He had to figure out how to fix that situation. Warren left the salon for good measure, in case anybody (i.e. Victoria) heard their conversation and thought he was crazy.

He answered when he made sure no one would hear. “Hello?”

 _“Have you reconsidered my offer?”_ An adult male voice that was most certainly _not_ his, spoke through the receiver.

“Who is this?” Warren asked.

 _“Mark,”_ the man answered. Warren wracked his brain trying to think of any Marks he knew, but came up blank. A friend of Nathan’s, probably. He tried to play it cool.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” 

_“Your party is tonight, this could be our last chance to work on a project together. Have you thought about what I said?”_

“Uh, could you remind me? My brain’s all over the place and I forgot.”

The voice suddenly turned cold. _“Are you high?”_

“No, I’m just tired is all.”

_“We could work on a project tonight, like we used to. I already forgave you, you know that, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. You won’t mess up again.”_

Warren had no idea what he was talking about and wondered how many questions he could ask until it was obvious that something was up. He decided not to risk it. “I’m kinda busy tonight.”

Mark scoffed. _“Busy with what? Partying? Nathan, this is your future we’re talking about. You can’t expect me to believe you would put a high school party over your career.”_

“I’m not! Listen, I just—” Warren didn’t have enough information to know what was going on. He needed to talk to Nathan. “I’ll think about it.”

_“Will you?”_

“Yeah, I’ll get back to you later, okay?” He hung up.

That was a weird conversation. Probably because he had no idea what Mark was talking about, or who he was. He dialed Nathan’s (his) number.

 _“Yo, how’s it going?”_ Nathan answered.

“Oh well, you know. It’s not a _total_ disaster,” Warren said. “I’m done, just waiting on Victoria, I guess.”

_“Yeah, the wait’s a bitch. It takes a few hours for her to be done.”_

Warren groaned. “Are you serious?”

_“Uh-huh. So pull up a chair and flip through a magazine, ‘cus you’ll be there a while.”_

“What have you been up to?” Warren asked. 

_“Haven’t left the room. I’m bored as fuck. Your body’s a fucking pussy; I can’t even smoke without dying.”_

“Have you been smoking in my body?!” Warren yelped.

_“It’s just a fucking cigarette, don’t be a little bitch.”_

“Are you insane?! Don’t do drugs to my body!”

 _“Too late,”_ Nathan said, then was overcome by a wracking cough. _“Fucking shit.”_

“Don’t! Stop smoking or else I’ll…” Warren sentence trailed off.

_“Or else you’ll what?”_

“...I’ll shave your head.”

There was a pause. _“You wouldn’t.”_

“Try me.”

_“If you shave my head I will call Max right now and tell her she’s a fugly hipster feminazi with no future.”_

Warren gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

_“Then don’t shave my fucking head!”_

“Don’t smoke in my body!”

There was a pause, and Warren heard a deep, shuddering sigh from Nathan’s lungs. _“How am I supposed to deal with this bullshit, then?”_ He asked.

“I don’t know,” answered Warren. Then changed the subject. “What am I supposed to do after Victoria’s done?”

_“Shopping, probably. After that, you’re going to pick up the party supplies. This is how it’s divided: Victoria gets the alcohol, Hayden gets the DJ, Dana gets the food, Zachary gets the lights, everyone else sets up.”_

“What do I do?”

_“You get the drugs.”_

Warren blanked out for a second. He blinked, swallowed, and stammered. “S-say what?”

_“When you’re done with all the shopping and whatever, drop Victoria off at school and go get the drugs from my supplier. You’ll help everyone else later.”_

Drugs. Warren had to go buy drugs. From Nathan’s supplier. “Nathan, that’s illegal!”

He heard Nathan scoff on the other line. _“No shit, Sherlock.”_

“I can’t _get drugs for you,”_ Warren whispered through the phone despite there being nobody around him to hear. 

_“You have to,”_ Nathan answered. _“It’s the Vortex Club; everyone’s expecting to get baked. If you don’t do this, people are gonna know something’s up. Don’t be a pussy.”_

Warren placed his hand over his eyes and said, “Fuck.”

_“I’ll walk you through it later, just hang out with Victoria and don’t make an ass of yourself.”_

Too late, Warren wanted to say, but didn’t. “Fuck,” he repeated. 

Nathan hung up. 

ooo

Despite his best efforts, after a few hours, Nathan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He put _Casablanca_ on pause and peeked outside his door. He knew how fucking weird it would be to see ‘Warren Graham’ leave his dorm, and he didn’t want to start any rumors. God knew that this school was a cesspool of gossipers who would eat a story like that in minutes. Once he made sure nobody was around he tiptoed out of the room and into the bathroom. 

_This is so fucking gay,_ he said as he stood in front of the urinal, fishing for Warren’s dick in his pants. Fucker wasn’t even wearing underwear.Taking it out, he noticed immediately the difference between his groin and Warren’s. Warren had foreskin, whereas Nathan was circumcised. Warren was also thicker than he was, smaller, but not by much. It also had a curve to the left, as opposed to Nathan who was—

His thoughts caught up to him and he nearly smacked himself. _Way to turn this from gay to gayer._ He did what he went there to do, deciding to not think about Warren’s dick and how weird it felt in his hand. He shook it and stuffed it back in his pajama pants, determined to make it back into the room without having to interact with anyone ever.

His hopes and dreams were dashed away as he barrelled, face first, into a muscular chest. 

“What the fuck, watch where you’re going, fucking prick!” Nathan said, rubbing his already tender nose.

“What did you just say to me, you little punk?” It was Logan.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Logan,” Nathan tried to push past him, but Logan shoved him back. “What the fuck!”

“You think you can talk to me like that? Did you forget your fucking place?” Logan kept shoving him back. Nervousness fluttered in Nathan’s chest. He had never noticed how large Logan was. 

“Fuck’s going on here?” Zachary came up behind Logan. 

Nathan took a breath of relief. “Zach, tell Logan to get out of my way.”

Logan released a mocking laugh. “Gayram thinks he can boss us around,” he crossed his arms and peered down at Nathan. 

_Oh fuck._ Nathan had completely forgotten he was in Warren’s body. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Hey,” he said, raising his hands placatingly as Logan and Zachary approached him slowly. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

With a slight nod of Logan’s head, him and Zachary moved to grab him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Nathan said, full-on panicking. He managed to get a punch in Logan’s face, before Zachary grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. 

“This is for my face,” Logan punched him in the stomach as retaliation and it hurt so much worse from the fight the previous day. “And this is for Nathan.” He punched him again.

“Stop!” Nathan said, the more he struggled from Zachary’s hold, the more painful it became. “Stop it, you fucking pricks!”

“Oh, you wanna stop?” Logan said. Zachary’s hold on him was still tight. “Sure, we’ll stop. In fact, you look a little thirsty.” They exchanged a look that Nathan couldn’t decipher, and Zachary switched his grip so he was holding Nathan’s torso and raising him up. Nathan kicked at the air in front of him, but Logan was fast, and caught Nathan’s legs.

“Get off me, you walking stereotypes!” He cried, as they carried him, kicking and thrashing, towards one of the stalls in the bathroom. Logan released his legs to help Zachary push him in. When Nathan saw what they intended to do, he fought harder. “No! No, no, no, no!” He protested, pressing one of his legs against the wall to prevent them from pushing him. Logan knocked it away easily. 

He tangled one of his hands in Nathan’s hair. “Maybe this will teach you not to mess with us,” he said, before knocking Nathan’s legs out from under him, and shoving his head into the toilet. 

Nathan struggled as he couldn’t breathe, but Logan had a firm grip on his head, Zachary on the rest of his body. He thought he was going to drown, until Logan hit the handle and the toilet began to flush. Then, as soon as it happened, it was over. Logan and Zachary released him at once and left him in the bathroom floor, coughing and gasping and spitting water from his mouth. 

“You are so fucking dead!” He yelled at their retreating backs. They ignored him, exchanging fist bumps and laughs as they walked out of the bathroom. 

“Fuck,” Nathan said, running his fingers through his—no, _Warren’s_ —hair and gripping it at the roots. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ He hated this. He hated Warren’s goddamn body, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it, and he hated that he might be stuck like this forever, and _he hated_ —

“Are you okay, Warren?”

Nathan snapped his head up to see the fat kid from his calculus class approach him with a towel. Nathan didn’t even know his fucking name. 

“Piss off. I don’t want your fucking pity,” Nathan said, and sniffed. Fuck, he didn’t realize he was crying.

Fatso didn’t listen to him. He sat on the dry floor next to him and offered the towel. “Those guys are jerks. You shouldn’t let them get to you.”

Nathan glared at the towel before accepting it with a resigned grunt. He wiped his face and made an attempt to dry the mess that Warren called his hair. At least the toilet had been clean. That was something.

“At least we’ll be out of here in a few weeks anyway. I heard those guys talking about jumping you after the number you did on Nathan.”

 _I’m so lucky to have such loyal friends,_ he remarked sarcastically in his mind. If those fuckers knew who they were messing with, they wouldn’t have even dared to look at him wrong. “Whatthefuckever,” Nathan said.

“What you did was really brave. After what he did to Max, that asshole deserved it.”

 _Gee, thanks,_ Nathan thought, though he knew that it was the truth. “Why’re you helping me?” He asked instead.

“I-I’m not,” he confessed, looking rather stricken about it. “I should have stepped in sooner. You’ve taken a few punches for me before, with those Vortex Club assholes. You stand your ground, and I’ve always admired that. But I’m a coward. I wanted to intervene, to make them stop, but I-I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Nathan released a soundless scoff, but the action brought him pain in the abdomen. He clutched it, grimacing. _“Fuckers,”_ he hissed.

The guy’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. He reached out to him. “Do you need to go to the nurse?” He asked.

Nathan moved away from the touch. “No, just,” he got on his feet, using the toilet as support. The guy moved with him. “Go. Away. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Did you not fucking hear me?” Nathan snapped. Fatty’s hand hovered in the air between them, uncertain if it should try to reach for him again or curl into itself. Nathan breathed deep, trying to restrain his frustration. “Look, I appreciate your help—or lack of it—but I just wanna be fucking alone right now, okay?”

The guy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Sure, Warren. Call me if you need anything. Or don’t. That’s fine too. You can keep the towel.” He left.

Nathan released a sigh. He really, really needed a cigarette.

ooo

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Victoria said, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. Warren tried not to let her judgemental tone get to him.

“What’s wrong with it?” Warren said, looking down at his choice.

“I thought we were going to wear matching clothes, and orange is _so_ not my color.”

Well, Warren thought it looked nice. He sighed and went back inside the stall, to try out yet another failure of an outfit, no doubt. The longsleeved shirt slid off him easily, and Warren tried not to look at his arms. After looking at his new body in the mirror for the first time, he decided to stick with long sleeves and jackets.

“How about this?” He stepped out of the dressing room with another outfit.

“A bow tie? Seriously?”

“What? It’s cool,” Warren defended his choice. All his favorite people wore bow ties. Bill Nye, The Doctor, Indiana Jones, James Bond… 

Victoria sighed. “Well, at least you don’t look like an escaped convict. The sweater vest look would work if you rolled your sleeves up, or you’ll just look like a nerd. Also, those pants are too big on you.”

Warren groaned loudly before going back in the dressing room. 

He never realized how ruthless the world of fashion was. Granted, it was just Victoria, but still. Before today, the height of fashion for him was a shirt his dad got for him that had a tux imprinted on it. He was pretty sure it came from Hot Topic.

Long sleeved shirts were a must in Nathan’s body, or maybe a jacket? He digged through the pile of clothes he chose from the racks. He lifted up a plaid red shirt, but he needed a jacket to go with it. What matched with plaid? After digging around a bit more, he found a plaid jacket underneath the pile. 

He left the dressing room, not feeling very confident. At Victoria’s almost scandalized look, he sighed, excused himself, and returned to the stall.

 

ooo

Nathan left the bathroom, feeling like shit and trying to think of a way he could smoke without Warren finding out, when he found three girls standing outside of Warren’s dorm. 

One of them beamed as she saw him. “There you are,” she said, walking towards him. “Oh good, you showered.”

He figured she had mistaken his wet hair and overall grouchy demeanor as just having come out of a shower. “Yep,” he answered, not really wanting to recount what actually happened.

“I hope you’re ready for your date with Max,” said one of the girls. The large one with purple hair and an annoying voice. 

Nathan shrugged, acting blasé. “I was born ready.”

“Really? ‘Cus that’s not what you said last night when you begged us to come over,” said what Nathan assumed was the ring leader. A latina girl with glasses.

“We’re here to help,” said Kate,—he definitely knew Kate—holding up a small bag. “I brought my makeup so we can cover most of your bruises.”

“I know how to put makeup on,” said Nathan. The three of them gave him a skeptical look. He was talking as Warren. Right. “Or I guess I don’t,” he added, under his breath.

“Come on, we know the date isn’t for a few hours but we’ve got a lot of work to do,” the ringleader grabbed his forearm and began pulling him towards Warren’s door. Nathan fought the urge to yank his arm away.

They stood in front of Warren’s door, waiting for Nathan to open it. He tried the handle, but of course, it was locked. Nathan didn’t know where Warren put his keys; his pants didn’t have any pockets.

“Fuck,” he said. The three of them turned to look at him, concerned. “Uh, I’ll be right back.”

Nathan left the building and entertained the idea of walking away and never coming back. If it wasn’t for the fact that he wanted his body back and for a million other reasons, he might have done exactly that. As it was, he circled the building until he found Warren’s window and tried to devise a plan to break in. 

He was lucky the boys dormitory was on the first floor, so he only had to climb past the ground floor to make it. Nathan grabbed a large, jagged looking rock and threw it where he hoped Warren’s window was. He’d had enough experience breaking windows, so his throw hit the mark perfectly and the glass shattered. The next step was climbing, something that _should_ have come to Nathan easily, but Warren’s body wheezed and gasped trying to lift himself up the tree adjacent to the window. 

He made it, just barely, stepping over broken glass and breathing heavily. Nathan opened the door, trying to play it cool. “Come in,” he said, slightly panting. 

“You broke the window?” Kate said in astonishment.

“Don’t you have your spare key in your locker, doofus?” The latina said, eyeballing him hard.

“Didn’t have time to get it,” Nathan played it off, closing the door behind them.

“We’ll help you clean the mess later,” the purple haired one said. He really needed to learn their names if he was going to pull this off.

On another note, Warren’s room was an actual mess. The broken glass didn’t even feel out of place. Discarded clothing, books, movies, wads of paper, he even had a suitcase open that Nathan suspected was from he moved in a _year_ ago. There was a clear path from the door to his bed, but if you wanted to stray from that, you’d have to tread through a dumpster. 

The latina girl seemed used to it, going straight for his bed, the purple one shifted some clothes away with her foot, and Kate just kind of stood there awkwardly, making a subtle face at the mess. 

“What mess are you talking about? The glass or the room?” The latina said, pushing some of his clothes off the bed and into the floor. 

“Warren, you have a closet, you know,” said Kate, opening it and revealing that it’s mostly empty.

Nathan didn’t really have anything to say to that, his own room being immaculate, save a few magazines or a jacket that are out of place. “I’ll clean it later,” he said, shrugging it off.

“Stella, why do I feel like I’ve heard that one before?” _Finally_ he got a name, the purple haired one addressed _Stella,_ the latina.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because that’s what he says every time we come in here. Which has been,” she made the effort of counting it on her fingers for dramatic effect, “about twenty times since the school year started.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” said Nathan, kicking a wad of paper out of his way, “I’m a gross, degenerate loser.”

“We didn’t mean it like that,” said Kate, moving towards him.

Nathan obviously hadn’t meant it as self-deprecating, but he could see why they took it that way. “Let’s just do what you came here to do so we can fuck off and go about our day.”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Stella teased. 

“Fuck if I know.”

“Wow, you get into _one_ fight and you think you’re the most badass dude on this Earth.”

That made him snort. “Would have been better if I had won the fight. Nathan’s tough, really tough. I think he works out.”

“And _you_ managed to hold him off with your wimpy arms, I’m swooning,” she said, fanning herself.

He laughed for the first time in a long time and looked down at his arms. “Yeah, they are pretty wimpy. They can’t even climb a fucking tree.”

“Hey, guys, focus,” said Kate, holding up her kit. “We need to make sure he’s prepared for his date with Max.”

Stella put on what Nathan assumed was her ‘serious face’. “That’s right, Warren, you’ve been psyching yourself up to go on a date with Max for a year. Are you ready?”

Nathan rolled his eyes, the more time he spent in Warren’s body, the more he felt like a loser. “How hard can it be? She’s a fucking virgin.”

Kate’s hand went up to cover her mouth, Purple’s brows shot up, but Stella only laughed at him. “Yeah, because _you’re_ such a huge sex icon. You’re a bigger virgin than Kate and she’s waiting until marriage.”

Kate’s shocked _‘what?’_ was ignored and Nathan felt like he was being crowned as the king of all losers. Warren was a virgin. It really shouldn’t have surprised him.  
“Of course I am,” he grumbled to himself. 

Stella took Kate’s makeup kit from her hands and said, _“Anyway,_ if you’re done playing the asshole, we’ve got work to do.”

ooo

It was past noon when Warren and Victoria returned to Arcadia Bay. _In three hours, Nathan will be taking Max to Newberg and I’ll be stuck with Vortex Club wannabees._ The thought soured him. It wasn’t fair. 

Nathan had texted him, asking for a ‘status report’ and stating that they should meet in the dorms when he returned. Victoria refused to talk to him during the car ride, and Warren had the radio on full blast to try and cover the silence. When he parked, Victoria left the car and slammed the door, bags in hand, not even giving him a glance. She was mad, he knew that, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

He walked sullenly to the dorms, ignoring the way people either openly stared at him, or completely avoided meeting his gaze. Being a Prescott wasn’t something to envy, he learned. He slipped into Nathan’s dorm and collapsed on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes. Warren wasn’t sure he could keep this up for much longer.

After a few minutes of sulking, he heard a single knock on the door. He sat up on the bed and said, “Come in.”

The door opened and Nathan, as himself, came in. Warren didn’t know if he was going to get used to that. Nathan had the same thoughts because he looked at Warren and said, “Fuck, that’s freaky every time.”

“Tell me about it,” Warren replied.

Nathan gave him a long look and said, “What the fuck did you to do my hair?”

Warren was confused for a moment, until he remembered he changed it. “You don’t like it?”

“Fuck no, you look like Harry Styles.”

“The barber said it as a compliment.”

Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose, swearing under his breath. “Great. Just perfect. Why don’t you give me a tattoo while you’re at it?”

Warren sneered and said, “You know what, I was thinking about doing that tomorrow. Maybe get a couple of piercings the next day. And the day after that. And after that. It doesn’t matter because we don’t know if we’re going to be stuck like this forever.”

“We’re not staying like this forever, not if I have anything to say about it. By the way, some of your geek friends came and gave me a makeover. Thanks for the warning.”

Warren sighed. “Shit, I forgot about that, sorry.”

“Oh yeah, I feel real pretty now,” Nathan flicked his bangs to the side, looking annoyed at the excess of hair. 

“They did a good job, though, I can barely see the bruises.”

Nathan dragged a chair in front of the bed and sat on it backwards, his arms folded over the back of it. “I’m not complaining about their skill. Anyway, how did it go?”

“Fine,” Warren lied. “Victoria got the alcohol and we got some new clothes.” At Nathan’s silent prompt, he took them out of the bag. Nathan looked over at them inquisitively; he felt like he was at the dressing room with Victoria all over again. 

“They look good,” Nathan admitted.

“Victoria picked them out for me,” Warren said simply, not wanting to admit the catastrophe that led to that. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Okay,” Nathan started, “you need to go see Frank. He’s my dealer. At the beach, currently. I need you to get eight grams of GHB, three of Purple Haze, five of Cocaine, three of Peruvian Flake, two grams of Molly, and a quarter pound of weed. Take five thousand dollars with you.”

Warren was reeling from all that information. “Uh, could you repeat that again…?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, write it down or something.”

Nathan repeated the list and Warren wrote it down, overwhelmed by everything. “Wow, that’s expensive as shit. I thought you were broke.”

Nathan seemed surprised with this information, his brows furrowed in offense or suspicion. “What? Where’d the fuck you hear that?”

“I mean, it’s a rumor. That I heard. Rumors don’t really mean anything, you know.”

“Why would anyone think I’m broke?” He said, and where Warren previously would have thought it as annoyance, in his own face it looked like panic. _What did that mean?_

“Well, I mean, you did go to the school cafeteria yesterday.”

“It was just a prank,” he said, and Warren wasn’t sure if he could believe it. “I lost a bet. And I had to go eat in the cafeteria. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“I believe you,” he said, but felt like he was lying. “It’s just a stupid rumor anyway.”

“Anyway,” Nathan said, in an obvious attempt to change the subject, “after that, you head straight for the party. Give the drugs to Hayden, he knows how to distribute them. Then, I don’t know, get baked or something. It’s a party.”

“Right. Okay,” Warren was going to ignore the ‘getting baked’ part, but the party thing might have complications. The complications being that he was Warren Graham, not Nathan Prescott. Somebody had to figure it out eventually.

“Now that we have that settled, you have a party to get to, and I have a date.”

“Wait, don’t you want to ask anything about Max?”

Nathan snorted ruefully. “Why should I? All bitches are the same.”

Warren’s brows slid to a frown. “No, they are not. Would you say Victoria is the same as Max?”

“Eugh, no way.”

“Then don’t talk about girls that way.”

Nathan made a dramatic effort to sigh and roll his eyes. “Fine. Whatthefuckever. What do I need to know about Max?”

“Well, first of all, this isn’t your average date. I’m taking her to the Drive-In at Newberg to see _Rocky Horror._ It starts at dusk so I would leave in about an hour, and you should probably get dinner on the way.”

Nathan looked at the ceiling. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more lame.”

“And Max. She’s strong, and fun, and smart, and caring, but she has questionable taste in films, which I’ve been trying to wean her off of. She thinks _Final Fantasy: Spirits Within_ is the at the very apex of sci-fi.”

Nathan scrunched his nose. “Ew.”

“I know right? Thank you. Basically just make sure the date goes well and everything goes according to plan.”

Nathan stood up. “Got it. Anything else?” 

Warren looked down at his ‘shopping list’ and also stood up. “This guy, Frank, is he scary?”

“All drug dealers are scary. It comes with the territory.”

“I mean, is he dangerous?”

“Not to you. Watch out for his mutt though.”

Warren felt like he was forgetting to ask something.

Nathan passed Warren his phone. “I already texted him that you were on your way. He should we waiting for you at the beach.”

The sight of the phone triggered his memory. “Hey, Nathan, I got a call earlier and it seemed important.”

“Who was it?”

“It was from,” shit, Warren forgot the name. “Uh, Ma… Matt, I think?”

“I don’t know any Matts.”

“I forgot his name. It started with an ‘M’. He mentioned working together on a project or something. During the party.”

Nathan’s eyes opened wide suddenly. “Wait, was it Mark?”

“Yeah, that was it.”

Nathan mouthed a _fuck!_ and grew agitated. Warren never noticed that emotions looked so bare on his own face. No wonder he was never any good at lying. He could tell thoughts were running on Nathan’s head at lightning speed before he turned to him and asked, “What did he say, exactly?”

“Not much, just asking me if I had reconsidered his offer. Like I said, something about working on a project during the party.”

“And what did _you_ say?”

Warren rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t really know what to say so I told him I’d think about it.”

“Listen to me, Warren. If he calls again, you tell him _no._ No matter what he says, even if he gets angry, tell him you’re not interested.”

“Who is he? I think Victoria mentioned him too, but I can’t remember when.”

“That’s not important. Just ignore whatever he says, and if he ever mentions—” Nathan cut himself off.

“Mentions what?”

“Just forget about it. If he calls tell him you’re not interested, you will never _be_ interested, and hang up. Capisce?” 

Warren sighed, rubbed his eyes. “It would be a whole lot easier if I knew what this was about.”

“You don’t have to know anything, just do as I say.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Okay. Now that we understand each other, you have drugs to buy.”

ooo

This was a bad idea. This was a _really_ bad idea. What, Warren wondered, did he ever do to deserve such a fate? Stuck in the body of the high school snob, standing on the beach to get drugs for the other high school snobs. The universe must’ve really had it in for him. 

He found the trailer easily, which made Warren wonder how the cops hadn’t caught it yet. Shopping list in hand, he walked up to the door and knocked. A dog barked from the inside.

“Stay, Pompidou,” he heard a rough voice from the other side of the door. A man, Frank, opened the door and gave him an unimpressed glance over. He looked pretty much how you’d expect a drug dealer to look, worn out leather clothing, tattoos, and a mean face. He was holding a bat in his right hand, probably as a precaution (or at least, Warren hoped). 

“Uh, hi, Frank,” said Warren, already feeling awkward.

Frank raised an eyebrow in response.

To say Warren was nervous was an understatement. He tried to reassure himself that Nathan dealt with this guy frequently and nothing bad ever happened between them. 

Warren cleared his throat. “Right. So.” He pulled up the list to read it. “I need three grams of Purple Haze, five grams of cocaine, eight grams of—”

He was cut off with a squeak as Frank grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the trailer, slamming the door behind him. 

Frank tore Warren’s list from his hands and sneered. “A _grocery list?_ Are you fucking insane?!” 

If Warren was nervous before, he was nearly pissing himself now. The trailer was barely big enough for two people as it was, but it was made even worse by the amount of trash that littered the small space. Frank’s dog had placed himself between him and the door, not growling but on high alert. 

“I-I, um,” Warren stuttered. 

“And you’re acting fucking weird. Are you wearing a wire or something?” Frank said, and raised Warren’s shirt suddenly, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around to make sure he was clear. 

“I’m not, I swear!” 

After he felt Warren up on his sides and checked his pockets, he was finally satisfied enough to believe him. “Alright. You’re clean, but I’m keeping my eye on you. Why’re you acting so fucking weird? You tweaking or what?”

“No, just,” Warren struggled to think of a lie. “I’m not feeling well. Memory problems and stuff.”

Frank gave him an inquisitive look and said, “Have you been taking Benzos?” 

Not knowing what else to say, Warren nodded.

Frank sighed, ran a hand down his face. “Idiot. You know that shit fucks you up, man.”

“I know,” Warren lied. 

The lie worked, Frank took a look at the list and told him he’d be right back with the supplies. Warren felt relieved to say the least. Frank’s dog loitered around him as he waited, sniffing his feet. Warren felt brave enough to give him a scratch behind the ears.

“Huh,” said Frank as he returned with a backpack. “That’s weird. Pompidou never liked you. In fact, he hardly ever lets anyone pet him.”

“Aw, why not? He’s a sweetheart,” said Warren in a baby voice to Pompidou, who leaned to his touch.

“I know,” Frank said, passing the backpack to Warren. “You know how to be discreet, right?”

Warren scoffed. “Discreet’s my middle name.” 

“Yeah? Since when?”

“This morning,” Warren checked the contents of the backpack—he wasn’t sure what half of the stuff was supposed to look like—but he supposed it was all there. He gave Frank the money Nathan had given him. Five thousand dollars. It almost pained him to see it go.

Frank eyed the money over and said, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Warren left the trailer, feeling accomplished.

ooo

What a piece of shit. _What a piece of shit._ Warren’s car looked like it was made in 1970 B.C. It looked like it was manufactured by Jesus Christ himself. It looked like it was pulled by horses in Ancient Rome.

Nathan waited for Max in the parking lot, browsing through Warren’s shitty apps on his shitty phone. There was one that could show him where the constellations were in the sky in real time, which he guessed was pretty cool, and he played around with it, even though the sun was still up. 

“Hi, Warren. Ready to see _Rocky Horror?”_

Nathan looked up, Max had finally shown up. She looked like she always did: jacket, jeans, dumbass hipster shirt with a doe on it. God knew what Warren saw in her. 

_Time to turn up the charm._ “Not as ready as I am to see you, gorgeous,” Nathan said with a wink.

“O-kay? What are you wearing?”

“What? This old thing?” Nathan said, gesturing to his outfit. One look at Warren’s closet (or _floor,_ more like) let him know that there was no way in hell he was going to wear his clothes. Ninety percent of his shirts were graphic tees with bad puns. The other ten percent were plaid. “You know I gotta look good for you, baby.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear skinny jeans ever.” 

They were actually regular jeans, but Nathan’s legs were a few sizes smaller than Warren’s. 

“That’s because they’re only for your eyes, beautiful,” Nathan said, opening the car door for her. Maybe he was laying it a bit heavy with the pet names. 

“Uh-huh,” Max deadpanned as she got in the car. 

Nathan got into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. The engine made a sound akin to a dying cat before revving up. 

“Your face looks good,” said Max. Nathan opened his mouth, flirty response at the ready, when she cut him off. “I meant like your bruises are gone. Do you have super-healing powers or something?”

Was that flirting? Was that how nerds flirted? Score. “It’s makeup, actually. Stella and Kate came over earlier to fix this fucking disaster.”

“It looked pretty rough yesterday. So did Nathan’s. I feel kinda bad for him but I’m not sure if it’s pity or guilt.”

Something about that rubbed Nathan the wrong way. “Why the fuck would you pity him?”

“I mean, I know he’s an asshole and a Prescott, but, I don’t know. He was in the cafeteria for a reason, right? If he is getting cut off it would explain why he was in such a bad mood. He’s probably stressed.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Despite being a social outcast, Max was pretty perceptive. Still, Nathan did not like being analyzed and changed the topic before the conversation could turn south. “Let’s not talk about that loser. Dinner first. Tell me, Max Caulfield, what do you _crave?”_ He said with a roll of the ‘r’.

“Uh, I don’t know. Burgers?”

“A _meat lover,_ huh?” He said with a wink. “I know this great place.” He really didn’t.

ooo

So it turned out there was this thing called “pre-drinks”. Warren wasn’t sure why, but apparently it was customary for the Vortex Club to drink before the drinking actually started. 

Too bad he wasn’t a fan of alcohol. He drank once in a Vortex Party earlier in the year and, well, it was a disaster. Discovering that he was a complete and total lightweight, he tried to make a move on Max and accidentally ended up breaking her camera. He also fell into the pool fully clothed and had to be rescued by Alyssa. Stella never let him live it down. 

But everyone in the Vortex Club was looking at him swish his beer around taking light sips. 

“You need some help there, man?” Hayden placed a hand on his shoulder. He was already buzzed.

“Uh, no, thank you?” 

“You’ve been acting really weird lately. Are you sick?” Dana asked.

“You’ve barely touched your beer, bro,” said Zachary. It was still weird to be hanging out with him without getting pushed into a locker or something. “Are you seriously gonna pussy out on the last Vortex Club party? This is _exactly_ when we should be getting turnt up.”

He was right, he should be pretending to be Nathan. So far he was doing a lousy job of it. Nathan was out there pretending to be him so he could have a chance with Max. The last thing he should do was alienate his friends. 

And, he thought, giving the alcohol another look, this was _Nathan’s_ body, not his. Nathan wasn’t a lightweight, not that he knew of. He was sure he could handle one beer. 

He looked straight at Zachary. What would Nathan say in this situation? “Yeah, let’s get fucking fucked, man. Ready to fuck this bitch ass cunt motherfucking shit place up, fucker.” Too much? Too much. 

Still, he downed the bottle. And threw it on the floor for good measure. That seemed like something Nathan would do. 

“Far out, man!” Zachary mimicked him and threw his bottle on the floor, smashing it. 

“Let’s get this party started!” Hayden shouted, and the DJ turned the music up.

ooo

Nathan was _totally_ nailing this date. Max was completely speechless throughout most of the car ride. Warren’s car miraculously managed to get them to Newberg without breaking down or otherwise exploding. 

They drove down a street full of local restaurants, Nathan looked over at them, slightly disgusted. No matter how hard he tried to convince him, Warren only gave him the money he had in his wallet, saying that it was too suspicious to take Max on a date with “Prescott money”. So they were on a budget. Which meant he could only afford the cheapest restaurants. Well, he always knew he would have to be working miracles for this date to work. 

“Tell me, Max—”

She cut him off. “If you ask me what I crave again I just might lose my appetite.”

 _Fine, bitch, have it your way._ “Then whaddoya want?”

Max looked out the window, “I’ve never been to Newberg before, so I don’t know. What about this place?”

She pointed at a restaurant called _Ruddick/Wood._ It was a rustic, American-styled restaurant on the other side of the lane. Nathan shrugged, said, “Fine, suit yourself,” and made a quick turn to avoid missing the exit.

“Oh God,” said Max, holding on to the car handle for dear life like the drama queen she was. “Warren, you have been driving like a fucking maniac this whole time, could you _please_ slow down?”

“Did you _want_ me to miss the exit?”

“You could have made a U-Turn!” 

“Well, maybe next time don’t point at a restaurant on the right lane when I’m on the left lane!” 

He parked and Max left the car, slamming the door on her way out. Geez, what a fucking basket case. Nathan still had no idea why she was so special. He left the car and jumped when the phone buzzed in his pocket.

**[The Asshole, Today 6:07 PM]**

_How’s the date going???_

**[You, Today 6:07 PM]**

_we just got to newberg and were at a restuarant_

**[The Asshole, Today 6:07 PM]**

_Good_

**[You, Today 6:07 PM]**

_hows the party goin_

**[The Asshole, Today 6:08 PM]**

_Yeah_

**[You, Today 6:08 PM]**

_????? are u drunk_

**[The Asshole, Today 6:08 PM]**

_Uhh_

**[You, Today 6:08 PM]**

_good_

At least it looked like Warren was handling things well on his end, he just needed a little extra _oomph_ to really woo Max Caulfield. He took a look at himself in the side mirror; he had to admit, he cleaned up Warren pretty good, so it should be easy.

Max was already talking to the waiter when he entered the restaurant. 

“Sorry I took so long, beautiful,” he said as he took a seat in front of her. 

She rolled her eyes at that for some reason.

“What would you like to drink, sir?” Asked the waiter.

“I’ll take a Bud Light.”

The waiter looked at him skeptically. “Could I have some ID, please?”

“Sure,” said Nathan, reaching into his wallet… until he remembered that he was in Warren’s body and that the only ID Warren had was his regular driver’s license. What kind of a nerd shit loser didn’t have a fake ID?

He sighed, aggravated and said, “Nevermind. Water, then.”

The waiter excused himself and left. Max looked at him unimpressed. “Bud Light? Really? You’re seventeen, Warren, what did you expect?”

 _I’m seventeen?_ This was worse than he thought. Fuck everything, honestly. “I was hoping the waiter would notice my rugged good looks and give me a pass.”

“Do you even remember what happened the last time you got drunk?”

Nathan perked up at that. “No, I don’t. Mind giving me a reminder?”

“You tried to take a selfie with me and dropped my camera.”

He laughed at that, of course Warren would be so pathetic. “That was a different _me_ who did that.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Max muttered under her breath, probably thinking Nathan couldn’t hear her. 

“You know, you would be so hot if you let your hair grow out.”

Max paused, blinked, and said, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Some makeup wouldn’t hurt either. I know you have that hipster wannabe thing going on, but you could be a real babe if you changed up a bit.”

She glared at him. “Don’t make me hurt you, Warren.”

“Okay, that was kind of hot,” he said under his breath.

The waiter brought their drinks then, and asked if they were ready to order. 

“Yes, please,” said Max. 

The waiter turned to him and he realized he hadn’t gotten a chance to look at the menu. “I’ll just have whatever she’s having,” said Nathan.

He then turned to Max who said, “I’ll have the lamb cheeseburger with dirty fries.” The waiter jotted down her order.

“Wait, what the fuck are ‘dirty fries?’” Asked Nathan, disgusted.

“It’s french fries topped with cheese, peppers, pork, and fried herbs,” answered the waiter automatically.

“That sounds _disgusting,_ we are not having ‘dirty fries.’”

The waiter frowned, crossing it out, “So, no dirty fries for the both of you or…?”

“What the hell, Warren?” Said Max, shooting daggers at him. “If you don’t want them, fine, but you can’t just not order them for me.”

“Ugh, _fine,_ Princess, have your ‘dirty fries’. I’ll have regular french fries, thank you very much. And instead of the cheeseburger, I’ll have a steak.”

“Okay, so, a steak with regular fries,” the waiter wrote it down. “How would you like your meat?”

“Bloody,” answered Nathan.

 _“That’s_ disgusting,” said Max, nose scrunching in disgust. 

“What, you’re a vegan now?”

“I’ll be right back with your meal,” said the waiter, quickly excusing himself and leaving.

Max and Nathan waited for their food in silence. Max had taken out her phone and began texting god knew who, and Nathan sat there glaring at whoever dared to glance their way. Max was completely, one hundred percent insufferable. He was being a gentleman, complimenting her and buying her food and whatever, and she just wasn’t having it. 

Okay, so maybe he had lost his temper a few times there, fine, he would admit to that, but he wouldn’t have lost it if Max had been more cooperative. Still, girls never liked to admit when they were in the wrong, and if he wanted to have a good date, he was going to have to play by their books. 

“Max,” he started, and she looked up at him, “I want to apologize for my behavior tonight.”

“Okay?” She said, apprehensively putting her phone down.

“I’ve lost my temper a few times, and I haven’t been the gentleman a kind lady like you deserves.”

“Uh-huh?”

“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met, I would be an idiot to throw away this chance.”

She took an exasperated sigh. “Warren, what am I going to do with you?” She said, rubbing her fingers against her temple.

ooo

“CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!” 

Warren came up for air, taking a deep breath and choking at the last minute. Around him, everybody cheered. Logan and Zachary, who had each been holding his legs, put him down at his request. 

“I think I’m gonna hurl,” Warren said, placing a hand on Hayden to keep his balance.

“Take it somewhere else, the last thing we need is anyone slipping on your sick again.”

Warren didn’t know how much alcohol he’d drank, or when they started doing keg stands for that matter. All he knew was that his head felt light, his mouth felt heavy, and the world was spinning under his feet. 

He had to admit, the Vortex Club was _fun._ It was a different kind of fun than the one he was used to, which was playing video games and watching movies. Granted, all they did was party and get wasted, but damnit, Warren was having a good time.

“Hey,” he said, heavily slurring, “do you know where, um, the bathroom?”

“Bro, I can’t tell my two hands apart from how wasted I am,” answered Hayden. “That shit you brought in was choice. Why don’t you try some? You haven’t had any all night.”

“No, thanks, I don’t do drugs,” answered Warren, leaving Hayden.

The only thing he regretted was that he wasn’t with his friends. Which was why when he saw Brooke leaving the bathroom, his overexcitement got the best of him, and he threw the whole weight of his arm around her shoulder. 

“Heey,” he slurred, “what’s lookin’, good cookin’?” 

“Ex _cuse me?”_ She said, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be at the party. You should’ve told me.” He squeezed her shoulder.

“If you don’t remove your arm from me in the next two seconds, I will not hesitate to karate chop you, Prescott.”

 _Prescott._ “Oh, right, I’m Nathan,” he said, much to Brooke’s obvious confusion. He carefully removed his arm away from her. That was right, Brooke hated Nathan and the Vortex Club with an undying passion. But, technically, Warren _wasn’t_ Nathan. Maybe he could convince her to think otherwise. Maybe they could be friends.

Brooke snorted derisively. “Yeah, and I’m Brooke,” she said, her words laced with a lethal dose of sarcasm.

“Come on, don’t be like that. I miss you.”

“I don’t _know_ you.”

“I’d love to get to know you better and the Vortex Club can get pretty lonely. Maybe we could…” His sentence trailed off unfinished as he felt something acidic swish around in his stomach.

“Could _what?”_ She sneered.

His jeans were uncomfortably tight around his midsection; he’d drank too much, he felt completely bloated. Brooke stared at him expectantly. Fuck. “Just hold on a sec,” he said, and began unbuckling his belt. 

Brooke, completely and absolutely misreading the situation, went into defensive mode and, with a cry, sent a karate chop to Warren’s abdomen.

His stomach couldn’t handle it. With little warning, every single drink he’d had that night rushed out of his mouth and into Brooke’s clothing. 

She let out another cry of outrage and a ‘what the fuck!’. Behind him, he heard the Vortex Club lose it. Warren looked up at Brooke’s completely reddened face, and tried to apologize, but before he could, she called him a creep and threw her drink on his face. She stomped out of the room and Warren didn’t have it in him to follow her out.

“That was awesome!” He heard Zachary say, and felt his arm snake around his shoulder. “Logan got everything on video!”

Warren wiped his face on his shirt. He mumbled into it, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Come on, I know what will cheer you up.” Not knowing what else to do, Warren blindly let Zachary guide him, his face still covered from embarrassment. 

“Nate’s here! Let him have a turn.” He heard Hayden call out to him and he uncovered his face to find…

“W-w-what’s going on?”

Logan clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Body shots, man! Since it’s the last party of the year Taylor finally caved in and let us do her!”

Taylor, who had stripped down to only her bra and booty shorts, lay on a table, golden liquid dripping from her abdomen. Zachary leaned in and sucked the liquid straight from her navel. Logan tried to push Warren forward. 

Warren leaned away, “I really don’t feel comfortable with this.”

“What, seriously? You’re the one that’s been hankering us about body shots for the past two years, man! You gotta get in on this action!” 

“I mean, you just saw me, I threw up on someone! I really, really don’t feel good.”

“Come on, man,” said Hayden. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“Seriously, I don’t want any more alcohol.” Warren felt drunk enough as it was, and he was struggling to clear his mind. 

“Oh, I see,” said Logan. “You don’t want to drink anymore.”

Warren let out a sigh of relief. “Exactly.”

“Don’t worry bro, I gotchu,” said Hayden, and, to Warren’s absolute horror, poured a line of white powder to Taylor’s abdomen. 

“No. Nonononono, that is _not_ what I meant,” said Warren.

“Why not? Shit’s really good, you should try it,” said Logan.

“Mixing cocaine and alcohol produces a substance called cocaethylene, which is very dangerous and can be bad for your heart.”

Logan, Zachary, Hayden, and even Taylor had leaned up to give him an unimpressed look. 

“Wow, since when are you such a pussy?” Zachary said, then did the line instead of Warren. The kick must’ve been strong, because he came up and shouted, “Fuck, that’s good!”

“Yeah, Nate, if you’re not gonna party with us, then fuck off,” said Logan, setting up his own line. 

ooo

They arrived at the Drive-In at dusk, as per Warren’s instructions. The place was packed with other nerds like them. Fortunately, Nathan managed to find a parking spot that was _just_ perfect. In the back, away from other cars. A dark, secluded area. The perfect make out spot.

The film hadn’t started yet when they got there, so Nathan turned to Max and said, “Would you like me to buy you some snacks, baby?”

She gave him a tired look and said, “Yeah, sure. Actually, I have to go to the bathroom.”

They both left the car and walked toward the designated building. Max walked in front of him and Nathan caught himself staring at her ass. He couldn’t help but notice that it really was a nice ass. So nice, in fact, that he decided to smack it. 

Max squeaked, which was kind of cute. She turned to him, face red and said, “Warren, what the fuck?”

“Just appreciating your assets, gorgeous,” he answered smoothly. 

“Oh my _God,”_ she said, and left, walking way ahead of him.

Yeah, the date had a few bumps earlier, but Nathan believed he could salvage it. A few more smooth words and she’d be putty in his hands, he just knew it. 

He arrived at the building and, after a few minutes of standing in line, bought popcorn and some of that ice tea shit girls liked. The movie had started by the time he returned, but Nathan had seen it enough times he could probably recite it by memory. 

Max had already been waiting for him at the car. “For you,” he said, passing her the popcorn and drinks. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled. 

“Anything for you,” he said, and added a wink. 

She sighed deeply, and turned to watch the movie.

ooo

Dana had taken pity on him, at least. More or less. Warren explained what he did to Brooke was an accident and she seemed to believe him. He also mentioned about Logan, Hayden, and Zachary doing body shots with Taylor and, well…

“You fucking _backstabber!”_ Shouted Juliet while Dana held her back.

“Fuck off, it’s not like I forced him to!” Taylor said, being held by Hayden.

Warren thought he knew the rules to girl-world but he was wrong. He was so, so wrong. Dana told Juliet about Zachary drinking booze from Taylor’s navel, which led to a confrontation between the three of them, which led to the revelation that Zachary was, once again apparently, cheating on Juliet. Which led to the world’s nastiest catfight. 

“Oh my God, can you two just get over it? Zachary’s not that great,” said Victoria as she was holding up her phone to record the whole event. 

Both of them turned to look at her and said, “Shut up!”

“Come on, Julie, it meant nothing. You’re the one I love, babe,” Zachary answered in a poor attempt to assuage the situation.

“You don’t have to lie to her anymore, Zach,” said Taylor. “She already knows you prefer me.”

Overall, Warren wanted to condense into an atomic state. All he had to do was watch over Nathan’s party. How had he fucked up so bad? ‘Did you _want_ to watch the world burn before graduation?’ was what Victoria had said to him once she found out he was the one who told Dana about the fiasco. And, honestly, that had been exactly what he’d done.

Juliet shook off Dana’s grip and for a moment Warren thought she was going to lunge at Taylor again. “Whatever! It doesn’t matter!” Her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes. “We’re through, Zachary! For real this time. Enjoy fucking your new slut.”

“Aw, no, Julie, wait!” Zachary said, wanting to follow her, but was stopped by Trevor, who gave him a nasty look and shook his head. He turned to Warren then, and said, “What the fuck was that all about?”

Warren floundered. “I, uh, I didn’t mean—”

“Thanks to you, I lost the love of my life. I hope you’re happy, prick,” he said, and walked away.

Warren stiffened from everyone’s glares and was about to apologize when Trevor came up to him and said, “Come on, it’s not your fault.” And led him away from the VIP section.

“How? I was the one that told Dana about the body shots.”

 _“Everyone_ knew Zachary was cheating on Juliet. You were the only one that had the balls to bring it into the open,” Trevor wordlessly handed him a drink.

“But, what he said—”

 _“I lost the love of my life,”_ Trevor mocked in a high-pitched voice. “Bullshiiieett. You don’t cheat on the love of your life. He’s just being melodramatic.”

“I think they hate me,” said Warren.

“It’s the Vortex Club. You know damn well we’re not here to hug, make friends and sing kumbaya. Dana’s actually relieved that you told her. Juliet’s angry, but she’ll get over it. That being said,” he looked at Warren uncomfortably. “I know you’re, like, head of the Vortex Club or whatever, but maybe it’s best if you lay low for a few days.”

“What? Did I get kicked out of the Vortex Club?”

“Well, no, not officially, but, Zachary’s sure as hell is gonna be pissed. So’s Taylor, and Logan would just follow whatever Zach says, and,” he chuckled slightly, “honestly it’s going to be like _Civil War_ up in here.” He looked at Warren apologetically. “You wouldn’t get it, it’s a comic book thing.”

Warren wanted oh so desperately to tell him that yes, he did get it, but that would definitely be out of character for Nathan to say. Not that he’d been very good at keeping character to begin with. He didn’t notice he had been drinking again until Trevor offered to pass him another cup. Warren declined, already feeling the haze returning.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. Anyway, I gotta go check up on Dana. We should talk more often. I always thought you were an arrogant prick, but you’re not half bad, Prescott.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, Warren was left alone again, hoping Nathan was doing better than he was.

ooo

It was time. The date was going phenomenal. They had eaten through the entire bag of popcorn, Max was enjoying the movie, and Nathan was ready to make a move.

When he made sure Max was fully engrossed in the scene, Nathan faked a yawn, and, true to nerd culture, threw his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened, and he hit her with a, “God _damn,_ you’re a sexy bitch.”

She whipped her head and said, _“Excuse me?”_

“You heard me,” he said, turning his body and leaning closer, “you’re the sexiest babe I’ve ever met, Caulfield. How about we blow this popsicle stand and have some _real_ fun?” 

Then, to his complete and utter surprise, Max slapped him. 

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” He said, pulling back and nursing his cheek.

She shook her hand like the slap had hurt her too and said, _“What the fuck was that for?_ Are you fucking cereal, Warren? What the _fuck_ is the matter with you?”

She left the car, slamming the door hard enough to shake it on its wheels. Nathan followed her out and said, “What the fuck is your damage, Caulfield?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I hate it! You’ve been acting completely selfish and arrogant and, and…” She trailed off.

“And what?” He egged her on.

“And you’re being a complete _prick!_ Seriously, Warren, what the fuck is up with you? I don’t know if it’s some kind of macho thing that you have to _impress_ me or something, but you’re being an asshole! It’s not like you!”

 _“I’m_ a nerd that needs to lighten up and grow some fuckin’ balls!”

She took a deep, angry breath and said, “I already texted Chloe. She’s on her way here.”

Nathan’s heart stopped. “What?”

“I liked you, Warren. I thought we were gonna have fun and geek out and shit. But it’s over. You had your chance and you blew it,” she started to walk away.

Nathan tried to stop her. “Max. At least wait here for Chloe.”

She looked at the parking lot, knowing she was going to be waiting alone in the night, and said, “No offense, but I’d feel safer if you weren’t around.” She left.

That stung. That stung really bad. He fucked up really bad. Nathan got back inside the car and pulled out the carton of cigarettes he’d bought earlier. Warren’s body was starting to get used to them, but he still choked at times. 

God, what a disaster. He really thought he was doing a good job masquerading as the geek. Wait no, scratch that. He hadn’t tried to be Warren at all. That was why he fucked up. 

Christ. He didn’t give two shits what Max thought about him, but Warren did. How was he going to tell him? 

“Fuck,” he said, breathing out a plume of smoke. Well, no use beating around the bush about it. He took out his cellphone and dialed.

A few rings later, Warren picked up. _“Hello?”_

Nathan could hear the thrum of music in the background. It sounded distant, so he guessed that Warren had gone outside to take the call. “Dude, I am so fucking sorry,” he said.

 _“Wait, what?”_ Warren’s tone turned urgent. _“Sorry for what?”_

“Max left. Chloe picked her up.”

 _“What?!”_ Nathan had to pull the phone away from his ear from how loud Warren had screamed. _“How? Why? Nathan, what did you do?”_

“Fuck if I know,” he said. “I slapped her ass and called her a sexy bitch. She was PMS-ing or something.”

_“Oh my God. Please don’t ever talk to women again.”_

“Point is she bailed. Said she wanted nothing to do with me.”

_“I am going to cry.”_

“No, nonono! You can’t cry, you’re at a party!”

 _“Too late, here come the waterworks.”_ Nathan heard Warren sniff.

“Great. Fuckin’ fantastic,” he said, and coughed.

There was a pause in the conversation until Warren said, _“I got kicked out of the Vortex Club.”_

“You what?!” Nathan’s voice went up by a few decibels.

_“Or something. I don’t know. They’re all mad at me.”_

“What did you _do?”_

Another sniff. _“I accidentally told Dana that Zachary was cheating on Juliet with Taylor.”_

“You _didn’t.”_

_“I didn’t know!”_

Nathan took a deep breath and another long drag. “Fine, it’s. It’s okay. There were only two weeks left of school anyway.”

_“Really?”_

He didn’t know why he was trying to comfort Warren after he just lost all of Nathan’s friends, but he couldn’t stand to hear someone cry. “Yeah, really. I’m sorry about Max, though.”

 _“It’s okay, I just,”_ his voice cracked. _“I’ll be fine. I’ll get over it.”_

Nathan breathed out in relief. “Good.”

 _“I just don’t know how I’ll live without her!”_ He heard Warren begin to full on sob on the other line. 

“For fuck’s sake, pull yourself together. She wasn’t _that_ great.”

_“Yes, she is!”_

“God, you’re a fuckin’ nerd.”

 _“Max is so great, I don’t know how I’ll—”_ Warren cut himself off on the other line. Nathan heard him stumble with the phone and stuttering. In the distance he heard a feminine voice say, _“Are you crying?”_

“Is that Victoria?!” Nathan said in alarm.

 _“I, um,”_ Warren stuttered. _“No, I am not interested in your new cable plan.”_

Nathan pressed his hand over his eyes. “Oh my fucking God.”

 _“I’m sorry, but I will have to decline your offer,”_ there was a pause, then he added, _“bitch,”_ for good measure before hanging up.

Great. Fucking great. Fucking great. This day could not get any worse. Nathan literally could not picture a way that the day would get worse. It already hit rock bottom. At the distance he saw Max get on a beaten up pickup truck and drive away. Nathan finished his cigarette and began his drive home.

ooo

“Oh, hi, Victoria. Didn’t see you there,” said Warren, trying to quickly wipe the tears off his face.

“I came to check up on you to see if you were all right,” she said, but had a suspicious look on her face.

“Yeah, yeah, totally. Just, you know. A little high, I guess.”

Victoria gave him a look that let him know she absolutely did not buy that excuse. “Who was that on the phone?” 

“Call center. You know. Direct TV and all that shit,” he said, hiding the phone away.

She sighed and said, “You know, if you’re gonna hide something from me at least try to be subtle about it.”

“I am! I mean, I’m not! I mean—”

“Come on, what is it? You can tell me anything. We’re best friends, Nate. You know I’ll always be there for you.”

Warren sighed, wiped the snot from under his nose. “I know,” he said. “I know we’re… close. But I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she said. And, to his surprise, gave him a hug. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, right?” 

Warren sagged into the hug. “Yeah,” he said. 

“Come on,” she pulled away and grabbed him by the hand. “This party blows. Let’s get outta here.”

“Yeah.” He was about to leave with Victoria when his phone rang. 

She looked at him and said, “I’ll meet you at the dorms.”

The caller ID said it was ‘Unknown’, which meant that it was probably Mark. Not wanting to deal with it, he put the phone on mute and caught up with Victoria. 

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to rock bottom. At least there's nowhere else to go but up... right?
> 
> Thanks for reading and please feel free leave a comment or a kudos to let me know what you think!
> 
> See you soon!


End file.
